


Speechless

by LaMorelleNoire



Series: Power Armor and Sniper Rifles drabbles [8]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Fluff, Kes cleans up nicely, Surprise Danse can't dance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 12:14:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14934081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaMorelleNoire/pseuds/LaMorelleNoire
Summary: A formal dance party between the Minutemen and the Brotherhood of Steel requires dressing and cleaning up. Danse finally sees Kestrel in something other than her daily wear.





	Speechless

“As you all know, we are having an official meeting with the Minuteman General to discuss an alliance tomorrow night at the Castle,” Arthur Maxson states over the Prydwen’s PA system. “The party attending will be myself, Lancer-Captain Kells, Proctors Teagan, to discuss their artillery, and Quinlan, to assist in negotiations, Paladin Danse for protection, and Knight Chenoa for her connection the Minutemen. We will be unavailable at the time, and only contact us if there is an emergency. This will have to come via Vertibird. For those attending: this is a formal event, I expect you to be dressed appropriately. That is all.”

Kes returns to her bowl of power noodles, in the mess hall beside Danse. “So I see Arthur decided to allow you on the ground party after all.” She grins, knowing he had requested attending as a security measure. “Have an outfit?”

“Yes he approved, obviously.” Danse then thinks for a moment. “Well... I suppose I can’t wear my usual uniform or my power armor. They’re hardly appropriate for a formal event. I’ll see if I have something, though.”

Kes gives a small hum. “I’m sure I could find something for you if you need it. I need to go home anyway to grab a dress. Don’t have anything nice here.”

“A _dress_? You?”

Kes rolls her eyes. “Yes, a dress. I can hardly attend a formal event in this,” She gestures to her usual outfit of a raspberry-colored flannel, torn grey jeans, her reinforced bomber jacket, and her combat boots. “I have the perfect dress, I just need to get it.”

“It’s hard to imagine you in anything but your usual wear.” Danse gives a chuckle, trying to picture her in more feminine clothing and failing. That just wasn’t Kes.

“I’ll have you know I look stunning in it.” She huffs, finishing her noodles and then standing. “Now if you’ll excuse me I need to go.” She stands and strides off with a sway of her hips, knowing that he’d be watching. And he does, a light smile on his face.

“Just _ask her out_ already, Danse!” The man in question flinches at the sudden voice, looking to see Ingram standing nearby. “You know she’s crazy about you.”

“I’m not certain of that,” Danse shakes his head, “and I would rather not act until I know for certain than act and be wrong and ruin our friendship.”

“For fuck’s sake!” Ingram throws her hands into the air in defeat. “The entire goddamn Prydwen know you two have the hots for each other except for you two! And before you mention her and Maxson just remember she doesn’t flirt with you like she does with him. So man up and just ask her out and save us from this hell.”

Danse looks the Proctor up and down before he narrows his eyes. “I’m guessing you made a bet with Kells didn’t you?”

“This isn’t about that!”

“What’s not about what?” Lancer-Captain Kells comes into the mess hall for dinner, raising an eyebrow.

“Did you make a bet with Ingram about my relationship with Knight Chenoa?” Danse asks.

Kells glances at Ingram. “Yes we did. I’m guessing she’s trying to push you to pursuing a more romantic one, then?” Danse nods. “Thought so. I say, if it comes to that, do it when you’re ready. No need to jump the gun and then have it burn to ash.”

“I was of the same mindset, Kells. Thank you.” Danse finishes his meal before he gets up and goes to his quarters, looking through his locker for anything that would be more appropriate attire for an event of this importance. Well, he has some casual wear that’s rarely worn, but it doesn’t match the occasion. He sighs and rubs his temples, wondering just what the hell he’s going to wear. Maybe he can stop by Bunker Hill tomorrow. Maybe even Diamond City, as those in the Upper Stands dress rather nicely.

He leaves his room and knocks on the Elder’s door. “Sir?”

“It’s open, Danse.” The response sounds a little tired. He opens the door to see Arthur sitting at his table, coat over his bed, and a glass of whiskey in hand.

“Isn’t it a little early for drinking?” He gestures to the glass and Arthur looks at it.

“It’s been a long day so far. Not to mention we have a war meeting tomorrow night and as much as I would like to wear my uniform it’s hardly proper... at least the flight suit. I could probably get away with wearing the coat.” He takes a drink from his glass. “Kestrel will be meeting us there, of course. She likes making an entrance too much.”

“That’s certainly the truth.” Danse laughs and goes over, pouring himself a glass and sitting across from Arthur. “On the subject of clothing, I was going to ask if I could make a trip to Diamond City for appropriate attire. It’s the closest place besides Goodneighbor, and I refuse to travel alone to that Ghoul-infested city.”

Arthur makes a face of disgust as Goodneighbor is mentioned. “Of course, and of course that’s where Kes spends most of her time.”

“Her personality fits right in with the city: dangerous yet free, and not exactly fitting Brotherhood standards.” Danse points out.

“That is true.” Arthur runs a hand through his hair, messing it up from its usual military neatness. “She’s certainly something else.”

“That she is.” Danse of course knows his friend has feelings for Kestrel as well. That fact also adds in to why he hasn’t spoken to her about his own. He doesn’t want to risk his friendship with Arthur as well. So he’s remained silent.

The two finish their glasses, chatting about this and that, Danse giving Arthur some ideas about weapon mods for Final Judgement, making the gatling laser even more deadly. Arthur meanwhile brainstorms possible battle tactics. By the time Danse finally leaves the room, it’s early evening. If he’s quick, he can get to Diamond City before sundown.

Leaving his Power Armor in his bay and changing into his casual wear, he goes to the flight deck and boards a Vertibird. “Diamond City, please.” He tells the Lancer and with a nod they’re off.

The trip is uneventful, which he’s thankful for. The Vertibird lands a bit outside the gates and he jumps out, smoothing his simple grey t-shirt and plaid flannel. He walks towards the city, Righteous Authority slung across his back.

He nods to the guards as he passes through the gates and the bright floodlights dazzle him for a moment before his eyes adjust after the shadows of Boston. He walks down the path, ignoring the young girl trying to sell a newspaper, past a barber harking his skill, and goes down a set of stairs to Fallon’s basement. He approaches the woman at the counter.

“Ah! I haven’t seen many of your build,” the woman says as he approaches. “I certainly hope I have something that fits.”

“I’m in need of a more formal outfit.” Danse gets straight to the point. “The event is important, and this won’t do.” He gestures at his current outfit.

The woman looks him up and down before she opens up a suitcase and looks through it. “I think I have something... aha!” She pulls out a white shirt and black slacks, then a suit jacket soon follows. “There, this should fit you.”

She hands it to him.

Danse inspects each article of clothing, trying to gauge if it’ll fit. The jacket seems doubtful, but he could merely wear his bomber jacket. That would work... right? Dammit, where’s Kes’ eye for fashion when he needs it? “How much?”

“200 caps.”

Danse scowls as he pays. That price seems rather high, but he’s used to Kes charming her way to paying less. The vendor waves him away with a smile, and he’s pretty sure he was hussled.

He makes his way to the Dugout Inn for the night, paying another handful of caps to the brothers with the thick foreign accent. He refuses their offer of moonshine and instead just turns in. Tomorrow will be a hell of a day.

___________

Danse is back on the Prydwen in his power armor by 11am, nothing showing he was gone for the night other than the clothes folded neatly on his bed. Now it’s just waiting until it’s time to go.

During that time he polishes his Power Armor and then works on a small present for Kestrel: a sniper rifle painted matte grey, so it won’t flash in the sun, with the Brotherhood insignia on the stock. On the barrel is her dove, carefully etched in and painted. The stock itself is of his own design: able to lessen the recoil and also able to be steadied so she doesn’t have to hold her breath with each shot. The gun is lighter than her Victory Rifle, so it’ll be easy to transport. The scope is high powered and he added a zoom function, to let her adjust the depth. Finally, the suppressor he added makes each shot as close to silent as he could.

He’s adding the final touches when he senses a presence beside him and he looks up to see Arthur. “Can I help you, sir?”

“It’s an impressive rifle, for sure... she’ll love it.” Arthur nods to the gun. “And... maybe you two will finally get together?”

“Not you too!” Danse gives a small groan.

“Paladin, the whole Prydwen can see it, just not you two. It’s rather impressive considering how perceptive she is.” Arthur strokes his beard.

“It’s because she doesn’t feel like she deserves it.” Danse adds softly. “Her past is catching up to her... and I don’t want to jeopardize our friendship.”

Arthur thinks for a moment. “Friendship is important... and I know she values it highly, as do I. I realize that my history with her may be muddying the water, but there is nothing between us, I promise.” He claps a hand on Danse’s shoulder. “You both deserve happiness, and I’m willing to sacrifice my own for you.

Danse blinks in surprise. “Thank you Arthur. That means a lot. And don’t worry, you’ll find someone. You’re only 20, after all. You’ve got a lot of life ahead of you.”

“You’re only 5 years older than me, stop talking like you’re so wise.” Arthur scoffs, but there’s amusement there. “Anyway, it’s about time to go. Get changed and I’ll meet you on the flight deck. Remember: it’s an important meeting. That means no flight suit and no power armor.”

“Yes sir.” Danse picks up the rifle and slings the strap over his shoulder, before he heads to his room and puts on the clothes he bought. He dislikes showing no affiliation with the Brotherhood and the stiffness of the fabric is uncomfortable.

“Paladin?” The word is accompanied by a knock. “Are you ready?”

“Yes sir.” Danse opens the door to see Arthur in a suit as well, although nicer than his. “No coat?”

“Figured it didn’t fit the occasion. Come on.” Arthur walks to the flight deck, Danse close behind. They board a Vertibird once Kells and Quinlan joins them, the Lancer-Captain in his official uniform, cleaned and pressed and looking every bit the military man he is. Quinlan is in a more formal version of his Scribe robes, more reminiscent of what they had in the Citadel.

The flight to the Castle was a short one, and the Vertibird landed on a helipad made from metal. The courtyard of the Castle had stone paths leading to the large radio in the center, and off to one side there was a wooden platform to cover the dirt, a table and chairs set up to discuss the relationship between the two factions.

Arthur is the first to exit the Vertibird, shaking hands with the General and Preston Garvey, a man Danse knew but didn’t really interact with.

Danse leaves the Vertibird second, followed by Kells and Quinlan. After shaking everyone’s hand the General leads them to the official meeting area.

“Is Kestrel with you?” Garvey asks, a concerned frown on his dark brow.

“She’ll be here sh-” Arthur’s words are cut off by the sound of Vertibird rotors.

The Vertibird emblazoned with a dove lands not far from the other, and Danse watches the Lancer-Knight Stevens exit and help the passenger out. All he can see is a flash of gold before it’s gone.

The Vertibird starts up and flies back to the Prydwen, finally revealing Knight Kestrel Xochitl Chenoa.

All the breath leaves his lungs and Danse is left speechless. The golden dress sparkles in the electrical lights and a long slit runs up the leg. It hugs her figure beautifully. Her lips are a deep burgundy, and her eyelids are dusted with that same gold. But her hair, normally steel grey with teal roots, is now her original raven black, braided on one side out of her face. No wonder she was out all day,washing out all the dye must have taken hours. Her dress only avoids the dirt beneath her due to her glittering heels.

He should say something, _anything_ , but for the life of him he can’t remember how to speak. How to move. How to breathe. Not with her looking like that. She’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.  And when she smiles at him, despite him being vaguely aware of his mouth hanging open? His heart does a flip and the poor man is a goner.

He’s somewhat aware of Preston tipping his hat to her as she draws closer, and his blood boils with jealousy as Arthur steps forward and takes her hand, kissing the back of it and telling her how lovely she looks. He was always good with words… damn how could he believe she’d _ever_ have feelings for him? Not with Arthur Maxson, Elder of the Brotherhood, able to give her anything she wanted.

“Hey there.” Danse hears the chuckle in her voice as she walks up to him. “Oh, I have a present for you. I figured you wouldn’t have a tie, so I got one for you.” She pulls the slim piece of gold fabric out from her handbag and pulls it around his neck, tying it for him. “There… now we match.” She grins, her copper eyes glinting with amusement.

“Kes… you…” Danse struggles for words, struggles to function. He’s fought Super Mutants, Ferals, Deathclaws, Radscorpions, Raiders, Gunners, and several lesser threats like Mole Rats and Bloatflies. He’s seen comrades die and even ordered the death of a few. But nothing he’s ever done or seen has ever left him so utterly disarmed as seeing Kestrel like this

“I know… thank you.” She smiles. “This is a party, right?” She addresses this question to the General, who nods with an amused expression, enjoying the show. “You have music for dancing?”

The General orders one of their Minutemen to turn the radio to Diamond City Radio. The music filters through the courtyard, and after a moment people gather on the dance floor.

The General and Arthur end up entering the Castle itself to plan, and Danse is about to follow when Kes grabs his arm. “Where’re you going? The party has only just begun.”

He takes a deep breath. “I’m here for the Elder’s protection,” oh good, he can speak again, “and I cannot do that while dancing.”

“Even if I asked you to dance with me?” She raises an eyebrow.

Well, how the hell is he supposed to say no to her looking like _that_? He sighs softly. “Alright… just a couple songs.”

Kes lets out a cheer and she pulls him onto the dance floor. Despite his name being Danse he isn’t that good at it. But she looks like she’s having the time of her life as she goes through the steps with him, teaching him. He’s more captivated by how her body moves, the shimmer of her dress, and how he can _just_ barely see the barrel of a snubnose .44 strapped to her thigh.

“I see you’re armed, even at an event like this.” His tone betrays his amusement as he twirls her.

“I’ve got a lot of enemies. And I feel naked without a weapon on me.” She explains, ending the twirl by spinning into his arms, and his hands instinctively move to her hips. “You’re not too bad at this.”

“I’m a quick learner.” His mouth is dry as he suddenly finds their faces very close. It would only take a dip of his head to finally taste her li-

“Excuse me,” Danse blushes red and let’s go of Kes as he hears Arthur’s voice, “could I have the next dance?”

“Of course.” She doesn’t seem too thrilled… maybe she was hoping for a kiss as much as he was. “Lead away, Elder.”

Danse watches them move away, Arthur a much better dancer than he.

“Ingram was so close to getting those 200 caps.” Kells laughs, clapping a hand on Danse’s shoulder and handing him a drink. “Although I will say, she looks stunning.”

“I know… damn Arthur Maxson.” Danse mutters as he takes a sip of the beer Kells gave him.

“Is that _jealousy_?” The Lancer-Captain grins. “Wow Danse, didn’t think you could feel jealous.”

“I’m not jealous…” his brown eyes never leave that glittering goddess. “Okay maybe I’m a little jealous.”

“I hate to make myself lose my own bet but just _ask_ her already then!” Kells is watching Kestrel too, watching how at-ease she is with the Elder, but there’s no love there… not the warmth and tenderness he saw while she was dancing with Danse.

“How could she want a Paladin when she has the Elder hanging on every word, able to give her whatever she wanted?” Danse murmurs as he takes another drink.

“Believe what you want… but she doesn’t look at anyone the way she looks at you.” Kells pats Danse’s shoulder before he moves away, a Minuteman coming over and asking him a few questions, leaving the Paladin to his thoughts.

Danse sighs and he moves to a bench to sit, nursing his bottle of beer. She really is too pretty, and he’d say too good, but he knows of her crimes. He knows her skewed moral compass, perhaps better than Arthur does. He’s a little proud of that fact, if only to have something to prove she’s closer to him than to Arthur.

He remains on the bench for a while, a few Minutemen coming over as a sign of goodwill to talk to him, chatting about this and that. It’s not until the night is late and they’d probably be returning to the Prydwen soon that Kes comes over, her cheeks flushed with heat and drink.

“Have you been sitting this whole time?” She asks, frowning.

“I’m not one for dancing, despite my name.” He says with a small chuckle. “Have you been with Arthur this whole time?”

“No, Arty left a while ago to discuss important things.” She tugs on his arm to get him to stand. “Come on dance with me!”

“I’d prefer a walk along the walls instead.” Danse stands, but he doesn’t move besides that.

Kes pouts but sighs. “Fine, we’ll be _boring_.” She plucks his third bottle of beer from his hand.

“Hey!” He protests, meaning to grab it but his head’s fuzzy from the alcohol and he misses, meanwhile she drains the rest. “You don’t need anymore alcohol!”

“That just means you’ll have to carry me.” She giggles, walking up the stairs. He has to help keep her upright with a hand to her back and a word of caution when she stumbles.

Once on the wall she makes her way closer to the edge, but he stops her, pulling her more to the center before he offers an arm, mostly to keep her steady. He’s seen her drunk a handful of times and she’s well on her way there. “May I?”

“Alright.” She huffs as she takes his arm, patting the muscle appreciatively. “Mmmm nice and strong.”

Danse shakes his head but has a smile. “Think you may have had one talk many drinks.”

“Yeah, and you’re somehow just fine.” She protests.

“I have a larger body mass.” Danse shrugs, knowing that accounts for some of it. But even then, after two and a half bottles he should at least feel a little more than just tipsy. “Besides, I’m not “just fine”. I’ve got a nice buss right now.” He smiles at her.

“Whatever.” She shakes her head, stopping on the north wall, looking at the Prydwen. “Seems odd we’re neighbors with the Minutemen.”

“The most advanced soldiers with the least; a militia trying to dust themselves off…” Danse says, still holding her arm. “This alliance could prove beneficial for all parties involved.”

“Yeah. If we somehow manage to get the Railroad on board we could wipe out the Institute in no time.”

“It would take a miracle to convince Arthur to work with those synth-loving lunatics,” Danse scowls.

“They’re not bad people though.”

“Is anyone truly a bad person?” Danse counters. “If no one is bad, and everyone is just trying to help the Commonwealth, is anyone truly bad?”

“Note to self: tipsy Danse turns philosophical.” Kes laughs, ignoring his question.

“I’m just acting like you and speaking my mind.” He rolls his eyes, looking down at her. A smile forms and he turns so they’re facing each other. “You really do look stunning tonight.”

“Thank you, Danse. I kind of figured that when you completely froze and looked like you had been hit by a charging Super Mutant.” She smiles up at him, then her eyes drop to his lips.

They’re both just drunk enough to think “to hell with it”, and they both unconsciously lean in to each other, but before their lips can meet, a shout from below causes them to jump apart. “Danse! Chenoa! Report to the Vertibird, it’s time to go!” Arthur then turns on heel and strides to the vehicle.

Kes gives a small, awkward chuckle. “Guess we better go.”

“Yeah.” Danse clears his throat and offers an arm again. He’s both relieved and frustrated with the interruption. He wants nothing more than to just kiss her, but he doesn’t want to rush into this. “Let’s go.” She takes his arm and he walks with her back to the Vertibird. He can’t help but give Arthur a dirty look, and there’s a glint in the younger man’s eye that shows he knows _exactly_ what he interrupted and is utterly unrepentant about it.

Damn that man to whatever pit of hell he came from.

**Author's Note:**

> alternate ending: 
> 
> They’re both just drunk enough to think “to hell with it”, and they both unconsciously lean in to each other, then their lips collide and for Danse it’s like a mini nuke going off. He immediately wants more. A hand goes to the back of her neck and pulls her close, him tilting his head to deepen the kiss. She eagerly reciprocates, a hand gripping his tie to keep him close, the other on a lapel of his jacket. His free hand drops to her waist.
> 
> Unbeknownst to them, Arthur is starting to gather the others, informing them it’s time to go. He looks up to the wall to see Kes and Danse, and he nudges Kells. The Lancer-Captain sighs heavily. Seems like he owes Ingram another 200 caps.


End file.
